Day 2 found us awake at 6a. I'd slept pretty good after the soak in the
hot tub and was ready to tackle Pico Risco. We packed up some gear,
leaving other stuff in the covered shelter
- our camp hosts had told us it would be fine to
leave our gear and enjoy another soak after we got back in the early afternoon.
We were the only two stirring among several dozen campsites located around the
rim of the canyon. Some of our neighbors had been up as late as 5a so it was
no surprise to find the place so quiet. This was not a mountain hut filled with
climbers as much as a campground filled with young partygoers.

There was not much navigation required for today's peak which was
clearly visible
from our campsite, only a few miles away. The DPS guide has a somewhat
lengthy description of the route, primarily of the area near the summit block,
that seemed unnecessarily wordy. The night before we had asked our camp host
for directions, more out of courtesy than necessity, when he learned we were
planning to climb the peak. The father, who spoke no English, gave a verbal
description to his son who then attempted to translate it to us. Though his
english was good, he could not make out what his father was trying to convey. It
was apparent that only Dad had been to the peak. After a second failed attempt,
his father took to a simple drawing in the sand with a few lines. The son
finally grasped what he was saying and translated, "Climb up the canyon to the
second waterfall, then leave the main canyon to head for the peak. Climb up and
around the right side of the peak." This simple description turned out to be
all the instructions we would need.

Wandering through the campground, we passed by the general store and
a handful of campsites before coming to the TH sign. The first part
of the trail for maybe a quarter mile is marked with yellow ribbons,
after which one of several use trails could be used to reach the
first waterfall. A small pile of rocks
had been collected on the left side of the stream at a smooth wall to help in
getting over. First Tom and then I gave it a go, initially meeting with
failure. Tom gave up after the first attempt and made his way to the other
side of the creek to find a way around. Obstinately I tried a second and third
time, then took off my pack and tossed it above me to a ledge, finally hauling
myself up the six-foot wall. I could not read the sign
located next to me on the
ledge, but I'm sure it was something like, Death for Those Who Venture
Further.
From here it was easy enough to find a way back to the other side above the
waterfall, Tom joining me at about the same time - no time savings for my
obstinacy, just bragging rights.

We continued up on first the right, then the left side of the creek, past a
second warning sign
(this one I partially recognized - "Peligrosa" is Danger),
up some smooth rocks, to the second, smaller waterfall. We left the main
canyon at this point, climbing steeply to our left, only to find ourselves
about 60ft above the dry wash heading towards our peak. The easier exit point
is right at the second sign, as we found on our way back.

At the base of the dry wash we found sporadic ducks
indicating a route to the
peak, though they weren't terribly helpful in other than reassuring us that
someone had gone this way before. When we reached the base
of the peak we found the creek forking in two paths.
We chose to follow the steeper left chute along the right
edge of the peak which turned out to be somewhat harder than the standard route
in the main channel further north. Some minor bushwhacking and a few
class 3 sections
got us by the only difficulties, eventually leading us out on a
traverse around the class 2 northwest side where we met up with the other route
coming up from the saddle west of the peak. There was some
lingering snow in
places on this shaded slope, though not enough to cause any difficulty. We had
seen the clouded range the day before from a distance in the morning and had
commented
that it looked like it had just snowed. Guess we were right. It was probably a
good idea that we didn't climb this one the previous day as had been our
original plan.

Now that we were on the summit ridge, we poked around for what looked like the
easiest route. Several small squeeze holes presented themselves and we
eventually chose one of these to climb through to the north. Tom seemed a bit
surprised by the deviousness of the route, not having read the DPS description
beforehand. I let him know I had the written notes in my pocket, but didn't
allow us to use them unless we got stuck, which we didn't. In fact it wasn't
all that devious and as we found on the way back there were several alternatives
that one could use, and all of the keyholes could be avoided. About fifty
yards from the summit block we climbed up through
a vertical hole we found on
the SE side, just barely doable with our packs on.
Closer to the summit, we
realized that there are at least three points vying for the highpoint, and it
wasn't at all obvious which one was higher. We climbed the easy middle one,
only to find the one immediately to the west and another further east were
higher. Remembering a description of a 3-foot step across, I correctly guessed
that the nearer block to the west must be the highpoint. I paused to photograph
Tom on the step across before joining him at the summit.

It was clear that the other summit far to the east was lower, but still
interesting looking. Tom could see that I was eyeing it, offering to wait while
I went over for a look at it. It would have had a better view looking down to
Laguna Salada, but I declined, feeling somewhat lazy. I would have felt less
lazy had Tom not said anything, allowing me to internalize the idea before
rejecting it because "Tom wouldn't want to wait around." Damn him.

There was a summit register in contradiction to the reports we'd read. The
earliest entry, from 1987
predated the trip reports, but there was a large gap
in entries, not restarting until 2002.
So perhaps the register was misplaced or
hidden for a number of years before being rediscovered and made more easily
available on the summit.

We had a minor disappointment in finding that Pico Risco is not the highpoint
of the range. There was an obviously higher peak further west
and others that were likely higher to the north.
So why the inclusion on the DPS list? The best
we could surmise was that someone in club *really* liked the hot tubs in
Canyon de Guadalupe, and wanted to share the experience with the other DPS
members. Still, the peak was a decent scramble for a peak that isn't climbed
often (the last entry was almost a year prior).

Our descent route was much the same way, though we had briefly considered
looking for the "Indian Route" described by others to the south. The problem
was we weren't sure which saddle was described or which line it took going down,
and the thought of getting back late and missing another chance to soak in the
hot tub dissuaded us. We took the more common route down from the saddle west
of the peak, finding the dry streambed easier to follow and a lot like our fun
descent off Cerro Pescadores the day before. We stayed in the main drainage as
much as possible, not so much looking for the class 2 way down as looking for
the most fun.

Ahead of Tom by a few minutes, I was the first to return to the main canyon
with the active stream flow. Near the second waterfall, where there was a small
swimming pool, I came upon a young couple embraced in a passionate kiss. They
didn't see me approach, so I ducked behind the cliffs until they were done.
More than watching a peepshow, I wanted to swim in the pool. Luckily they
didn't do anything further, and soon hiked back down the canyon.
I spied others
downstream hiking in the canyon as well - apparently it is a pretty popular
afternoon activity after sleeping in late. I had my swim, though it was hardly
refreshing. The water was icy cold (runoff from the recent snow)
and I could stand it only a few seconds
before fighting my way back out. While I was air-drying Tom wandered over after
finishing his descent of the dry wash. Another couple waited patiently below
while I put my clothes back on and shouldered my pack. They came up to visit
the pool as we headed down.

There were other younger folks out and about as we completed the descent back
to the campground - other than the hot tubs, this was the only other
recreation it would seem. Around 1:30p we
met up again with our Mexican hosts, and through the
interpreter they seemed happy that we'd reached the summit. We had our last soak
in the hot tub before packing things up - very refreshing. I went over to
the toilet that Tom
had praised so highly in the morning. There are three enclosed stalls with
flush toilets that are fed by the hot water. This warms the entire porcelain
seat which was quite cozy in the chilly morning, Tom had reported. In the
warmer afternoon I found it otherwise - it actually makes your butt sweaty and
the heat has a cooking effect on what drops in before flushing. Unusual, yes,
but not something I'll be installing at home anytime soon.

The drive out of the campground was not as terrible in the daylight as it had
seemed the night before. I got out to film the
stream crossing and Tom was
better able to avoid pounding the underside of the car when he could see the
terrain better. Still, this is a 4WD road and high clearance would be a
big plus.

Tom drove the entire 34 miles of dirt back out to the paved highway 2, after
which we switched places. Time for Bob to drive in Mexico. We had a long drive
ahead of us to reach Cerro Pinacate south of the Arizona border. Our intial
look on a AAA map was somewhat disheartening - some 300 miles. It wasn't until
an hour later that we came to find the distance was much shorter - though it was
primarily a map of the western United States, the distances given on the map
were in kilometers for Mexico, who knows why. Certainly the primary users of
the map, US citizens, would still be driving cars that measured distances in
miles, not kilometers. In any event, our drive was shorted by almost 40%. Yay!

The smaller towns along Highway 2 are much like Mexicali, but in miniature
version - very poor and deteriorated badly. There were debris piles everywhere,
large yards with wrecked vehicles, smaller yards packed with old engines
presumeably to be recycled at some point (although the stuff looked to be
sitting around for many years). We noted that cinder blocks make up the primary
building material - they could build anything out the stuff - multistory
buildings, room additions, outhouses, picnic benches, landscaping and more.
Pemex stations were the only sites that looked to be maintained. One of the
biggest advertisers in this part of the state is Anheuser-Busch with huge
billboards for BudLight in many locales. Maybe this is payback for all the
Corona billboards in my own neighborhood. Oh, and Tecate seems to be marketed
aggressively too. Perhaps the oddest storefront we saw was a Thrifty's Ice
Cream Store among other local favorites in one town, proudly announcing under
the sign, "Made in the USA."

Our route through Mexico was the most straightforward from looking at a map,
the alternative would be to cross back to the US and take Interstate 8, probably
incurring an additional 80 miles or more. In the end we concluded that there
was probably little time saved, if any. Once past Highway 5 near Mexicali,
the toll road ends and reverts to a free road. The quality of the road
deteriorates with the change. In most places the speed limit was 80kph (about
50mph), but large sections dropped to 60kph and even 40kph, sometimes for no
apparent reason. At first I drove conservatively, keeping to the speed limits,
but when even the large semis were passing me at considerably higher speeds, I
picked it up, averaging closer to 100kph. As nighttime overtook us traveling
east, the trucks were still passing us, but they weren't leaving us in a
swirl of windy vortexes as they
had earlier. There was a large section of highway under construction for which
an alternative dirt road had been bulldozed alongside the original for a number
of miles, and this added further to our slow progress.

Near the border town of Sonoyta we turned south on Highway 8,
a popular byway for Arizonians
heading south for their nearest coastal access at the Sea of Cortez. To
encourage such migrations and the accompanying influx of US dollars, the
government has upgraded the road to as good as any found in the US, with no
tolls. We reveled in the smoothness of the pavement and the sudden quietness
of the drive. After 30 miles we reached the turnoff for El Pinacate National
Parque, only to find the road gated at the entrance. A sign indicated park
hours from 8a-5p, and here we were 3 hours late. Rats. We ended up driving
back up the highway a few miles to a roadside rest stop where we spent the
night.
There was BBQ pit, covered picnic bench, and a small chapel (all built with
cinderblock, naturally). We cooked dinner at the picnic table before settling
down for the night. I slept outside on the concrete pad under the covered
shelter while Tom made room in the car. Despite the irratic intervals of passing
cars, I slept pretty well in the cool night air. Desert life is pretty fine in
the winter...

Ryan S comments
on 02/24/09:
Bob, thank you so much for sharing the hot toilet seat, sweaty butt experience........thank you. jj comments
on 02/25/09:
The second sign made sense to me (danger, slick rocks) but the first sign says something about "only authorities may line stones" which is a bit curious.Anonymous comments
on 05/23/11:
Believe the first sign is to discourage defacing the rocks, those who mark the rocks will be surrendered to the authorities.